The Outlaw Knight and The Braithwaite Damsel
by Soffaa
Summary: Before Mary and Eliza there was Lydia Davis, Arthur's first love. Now she goes by Lydia Braithwaite, will their paths cross again?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Whilst playing red dead 2, I totally fell for Arthur Morgan and wanted him to have a love interest to make him happy but knew that wasn't going to happened because of Eliza and Isaac. I hope you like the first chapter, please review.**

**Chapter 1**

Once again she was stuck upstairs whilst her husband, Gerald, was in another business meeting. Feeling like a trapped animal in a cage, she grew tired of reading the same five books over and over again. Out of boredom, she jumped up from the cushioned bench in her room and began pacing. The hem of her navy ball gown skirt dragged along the floor as she glided from room to room. Every now and again, she would find herself at the top of the staircase, the toes of her boots caressing the last step that led to the first floor. The temptation was increasing as she heard the front door to the manor open and the sound of the butler, James, introducing a late individual to the meeting.

Her husband didn't allow her downstairs where she could be ogled by the stable hands and the guards. Of course, Lydia was oblivious to the 'ogling' as she didn't think she was one to be stared at. The young woman saw herself as pretty but never beautiful. She thought that her dark blonde curled hair and blue eyes complimented each other quite nicely and her freckled face was never tarnished by the presence of makeup.

Gerald tried to get her to wear some makeup to the high society functions they were always invited to but she would refuse. The man never made her feel beautiful, always criticizing her choice of clothing, her manners and the way she carried herself. Lydia would get ready for the galas, mentally preparing herself for the judgemental comments that would follow. None of them about how pretty she looked.

There was only one man who had made her feel beautiful but she believed he was long gone.

That man was Arthur Morgan.

She first met him when he was a mere boy. Her father, Warren and herself were members of the famous Van der Linde gang fronted by Dutch Van der Linde and Hosea Matthews. Warren had built a business friendship with Hosea whilst doing a couple of odd jobs here and there. Her father got on better with Hosea, believing he was better leader for the gang.

When Warren's wife, Margaret, died he became lost. Unable to take care of his young daughter after taking to the bottle to drink away the sorrow. Hosea saw this, deciding to bring them into the gang to help them get back on their feet. Lydia felt loved and safe surrounded by women she could look up to and men that would protect her to no end.

Then one day, Hosea and Dutch came back with a shy boy by the name of Arthur. Lydia was happy to have a friend and someone to play with but she knew it would take a while for the boy to settle into his new surroundings. Surely enough after a few weeks, Arthur had come out of his shell, enjoying his new found friendship with Lydia. Lydia would show him around the camp, the chores that needed doing and sneaky hideouts where they could be alone. In return, Arthur taught the young girl to shoot a gun and ride a horse.

As the two got older they saw their feelings for each other change but neither dared to say anything to the other. Lydia was aware her feelings had changed when Arthur had rescued her from a drunk simpleton one night. The man clearly had too much to drink, mistaking Lydia's politeness for flirtation and permission to make a move. The man grabbed her a little too harshly, not accepting no as an answer to his actions. That's when Arthur swooped in like a knight, knocking out the villain and recusing the fair maiden.

He walked her back to their camp, making sure she was safe and at ease from the situation at the saloon. Arthur ended up sleeping on the ground next to her cot, letting the blonde know that she was secure and her knight was there in case of trouble.

From that day on that's what he became; her knight.

Lydia would need saving from her hero once again when her father passed. He died from contacting tuberculosis on a job, slowly deteriorating, becoming a shadow of the man he used to be. Like her father when her mother died, she also became lost, not knowing where she belonged without her father to guide her. During this time her saviour was courting a woman by the name of Mary Gillis, who was a refreshing break from his life of lies and deceit.

She took this as a sign to move on, get out of the gang, settle down some place new and meeting Gerald Braithwaite gave her that option. The ginger haired man made her special like she was worth something to someone. This was her way out of the gang and into a normal life of marriage and children.

The memory of the day she left was still vivid as if it had happened yesterday. She had informed Hosea and Dutch that she was to be engaged to a young man, not uttering his name in case they wanted to con him. The two patriarchs were sad to see her leave, not wanting her to go but knowing she deserved the best life. Tears pool in her ocean blue eyes as she remembers the tight embrace she received from both of her secondary father figures. The worst was yet to come though; saying goodbye to Arthur.

The outlaw had been out with Mary all day, coming back to the camp to witness his friend packing up her tent. The expression on his face was a mixture of pain for her leaving, regret that he hadn't spent more time with her and despair that he may never see her again. That look would forever haunt her being the last time she ever saw Arthur Morgan. She wanted him to confess his love for her, to hold her and tell her not to go or kiss her, but he didn't.

She had regretted leaving ever since.

Now here she was in a loveless marriage, not willing to leave because she didn't have anywhere else to go. She felt like Rapunzel looked in her tower understanding that there was a better life out there, she just didn't know where.

The air on the first floor on the manor began to feel thick and claustrophobic, so she stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air. Bringing air into her lungs was not easy especially with this stupid corset she was wearing underneath her white frilly shirt. She tried breathing in the fresh air slowly and deeply, looking out onto the vast grounds of the Braithwaite manor. As she looked out, her eyes went to her favourite place on the grounds; the gazebo. A wooden circular structure with a bench around the inside, placed in the corner by the lake that surrounded the land. It was her most adored spot where she could peer out to the water, forgetting about her marriage troubles.

At this time Penelope, Gerald's cousin, was sat there probably writing a letter to her forbidden boyfriend, Beau Gray. Lydia was the only person Penelope confided in about her love affair with the youngest Gray and Penelope knew about Lydia's unhappiness. The both of them wanting to get away from the pressure and rules of the Braithwaite's.

Lydia saw Penelope as a way for her get out of her current predicament, to escape from the confines of the mansion's walls. She stormed back to her bedroom grabbing her leather bound notebook and a pencil before heading to the top of the stairs. Remembering that her husband was in a meeting, her hands brushed down her ball gown skirt, straightening it to look presentable.

When her faded brown boot hit the first step, the double doors to the parlour opened revealing two men. The first was a ginger haired fellow dressed in a grimy grey blazer and worn black trousers, heading straight for the front door. He was followed by a broad muscular man wearing a white shirt, bootleg black jeans and a matching leather Stetson. The second man was covered in weapons with a rifle slung round his back and two pistols holstered at his hips. The two of them ignored the curious woman on the stairs, going about their business. She was surprised her husband was dealing with men not up to his usual calibre.

She walked the rest of the way down the stairs, about to follow the men out the door but the dreaded voice of her husband found her ears.

"My dear, Lydia, where are you sneaking off to?" His voice was like poison to her ears. She had to suppress herself from rolling her eyes, instead opting for a loving smile as she entered the parlour.

"I was just going to join Penelope in the garden" The tone of her voice was sickly sweet as she spoke to her husband, ignoring the other two people in the room.

"Miss Davis" her mother-in-law refused to call her by her married name "this is Mr Matthews a new associate of ours." She detested the attention Catherine Braithwaite demanded when she was in the room. The sharp tone of her voice made her skin crawl and the fierceness in her eyes made her look away in shame. Her husband would have never introduced her to a business associate, but this was Catherine, she always had a motive behind her actions.

The smile on Lydia's face became real, recognising the older gentleman as Hosea Matthews, her old friend. She had not seen him in a good 10 years but he hadn't changed a bit. The hair on his head had become greyer in his older age but his eyes were still wise and bright. He wore his usual blue striped shirt and vest combination with a red handkerchief around his neck. She couldn't tell if he recognised her as she was only 21 when she left the gang. He probably remembered her as a scrawny young woman with big blue enticing eyes and untameable blonde curled hair held up with a bright blue ribbon. Now here, she was with the same blue ribbon tying up half her ringlets, tamed and under control.

"Hosea?!" Not one to usually call men by their first names but she was taken aback. She couldn't believe that he was still alive more than anything. Her thoughts went to the rest of the Van der Linde gang, wondering if Arth- they were all still well. The smile on Hosea's face widen at the sight of the girl he considered a daughter, she was back.

"Lydia, my girl." The old man stood up from the fabric couch to approach the girl, taking in the very beautiful woman. A chuckle unexpectedly erupted from the back at his throat at the luck he was having. When he reached the young woman, he placed his hands on the top of her arms, examining her face at how the years have treated her. There were little wrinkles around her eyes showing her age. Hosea pulled Lydia into a bear hug, missing the cheerful girl around camp. They pulled away from each other but Hosea held onto Lydia's hands. "You just missed Arthur and Sean."

The blonde woman felt her heart beat increase, she was so close to him. She took a few steps back into the hallway to search for her knight out the front door. All she could see were two figures on horseback riding into the distance. "That was Arthur?" she asked Hosea sadly.

"The boy's changed a lot since you last saw him." Hosea's tone appeared to be one of sadness for his surrogate son. This made Lydia anxious on what she had missed, feeling guilty for leaving Arthur to go through his life alone. Her mind was full of an abundance of questions to ask Hosea, but was interrupted by her attention grabbing husband.

"My dear, how do you know Mr Matthews?" She hadn't notice Gerald and Catherine follow herself and Hosea out the room until his irritating voice sounded.

"My father was good friends with Mr Matthews, we travelled around together for a while. When my father died, Mr Matthews took me in as one of his own." She gave Hosea a grateful smile. Understanding that it was probably a lot of hard work trying to comfort her becoming an orphan at 20 years-old. "I'm very grateful for him." Hosea peered down at the compliment. "And that's when I met Gerald. I hadn't seen him seen then."

Gerald looked satisfied with the answer provided by his wife, but Catherine didn't. She had always sensed that there was something suspicious about Lydia. The fact that she knew Mr Matthews confirmed it. He and Mr Morgan had already tried to con them buy selling the Braithwaite's stolen moonshine back to them. Catherine imagined that if Miss Davis knew Hosea before, she was of a similar no good background.

"Well Mr Matthews, it seems as though our business is done." Catherine declared with a bold tone, all eyes going back to the lady of the house.

"Allow me to walk you out." Lydia offered, walking towards the front door with Hosea. She thanked James as he held open the door for them. "So how is the rest of the gang?" She asked the older man as they walked down the steps together.

"You mean, Arthur?" A light blush appeared on her cheeks as her father figure saw through the question. "After you left, he was a mess. He drunk a lot, mumbling about finding a way to bring you back. Then Mary left and he lost some folk. He's been through a lot but he's come out the other side."

"I'm sorry for leaving. I thought it was best after- "

"My girl, no need for apologies. You found a way out but it's like a drug, people find a way back." The two of them neared his horse, Silver Dollar, their pace slow to try and get enough conversation in. "I sure did."

"How is Bessie?" The blonde's blue eyes lit up, wanting to hear all about Hosea's wife, the woman who cared and protected her. Hosea's eyes filled with sadness, realising Lydia had no idea of her passing.

"She passed a few years back." Hosea watched as shock appeared across Lydia's face. She assumed that not everyone in the gang would have lasted ten years but to hear it out loud, broke her heart.

"Hosea…" Tears began pooling in her eyes, one fell down her cheek. "I'm so sorry for your loss." Lydia quickly wiped the stray tear away, not wanting to burden Hosea with her sadness. The older man jumped up onto the saddle on his horse, not wanting to leave the vulnerable girl by herself with these rich piranhas.

"Thank you but it's okay. I'm healing." Noticing his hands grab the reins to Silver Dollar, her pulse quickened knowing their time was almost up.

"Where's the camp now?"

"Just outside Rhodes. Dutch, Arthur and Bill were made deputies to help against the Lemoyne Raiders moon-shire operation." Lydia chuckled, shaking her head at the situations those boys get themselves into. "I'm sure they'll see you in town."

"Rhodes is a Gray town. Dangerous for any of the Braithwaite's to step foot in."

"Since when did you stray away from danger?" Hosea teased the young girl, giving her a big cheesy smile as he prepared to leave the mansion's grounds. "Don't be a stranger." With that, Hosea kicked the horse gently making it exit the gates and head back to Rhodes.

As Lydia watched Silver Dollar take Hosea away, a small smile spread across her face. Her hero was alive and she saw him! Maybe her luck was changing after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I was racking my brain on how Arthur and Lydia should meet again, and this way made sense. I have altered the timeline slightly. Sorry I took so long to post this, but I wanted Arthur and Lydia's first time seeing each other again to be perfect. Thank you for all the amazing reviews they gave me such confidence.**

**Chapter 2**

Lydia couldn't believe she was doing this. If anything were to happen, she was going to blame Penelope.

The young Braithwaite told Lydia of a women's suffrage rally that was to take place through the town of Rhodes. Penelope wanted to help make a change in her lifetime, so she was going to go whether Lydia liked it or not.

The blonde was very fond of Penelope, the only Braithwaite she got along with. She couldn't let the young girl go on her own, especially in Gray territory, not to mention the rally could bring unwanted attention.

After agreeing to go with Penelope, who squealed and hugged her, it occurred to her that she might run into Arthur. Lydia hurried up to her bedroom to get ready for the day, wanting to look her very best for her knight. Her old blue ribbon was used to tie up half her ringlets, allowing some to fall and frame her face. Makeup was used sparsely, just around her eyes and a little on her lips. From her wardrobe she picked a slightly off the shoulder blue floral dress with a fall maxi skirt, pairing it with some small white lace gloves. Looking at herself in the mirror, she felt silly dressing in such luxurious clothing to see him when all she used to wear around him were plain cotton dresses. Arthur never cared what she wore, he would always tell her how beautiful she looked.

Once she was pleased with her reflection, herself and Penelope told the guards they were going for a leisurely walk around the grounds. When they were out of sight, they made their way to Rhodes, the forbidden Braithwaite town.

* * *

Lydia was surprised at the number of women that had turned up for the rally. They had picket signs, blue sashes and a wagon decorated with cardboard slogans. Lydia was presently at the back of the group, petting the horses attached to the wagon. She kept a watchful eye on Penelope who was standing near her, cheering along with the other women as Olive Calhoon gave a pep talk. As she stroked the horses, she could no longer ignore her erratic heartbeat at the hope of seeing Mr Arthur Morgan. She realised that the chances were small but big enough to make her optimistic.

As she stood there thinking about all the possible scenarios, she suddenly noticed that she couldn't see Penelope any more. Her pulse picked up for a totally different reason, hoping none of the Gray men had seen the young Braithwaite.

"Penelope!" She shouted in distress, gaining a scowl from Olive.

"Over here Lydia." Penelope's voice piped up. Lydia made her way to the back of the wagon, where Penelope was standing with two men. The younger of the two was holding Penelope's hands, she assumed that he was Beau Gray. He was very handsome for his age with a strong jawline and dark brown hair that appeared to be growing outwards instead of down. He wore an intricate scarlet silk vest over a striped shirt along with dark trousers tucked into riding boots. Lydia was very impressed with Penelope; she had bagged herself a very good-looking man.

Then her eyes met the sage green ones of the man standing next to him. The older gentleman was staring at her just as much as she was at him. Did he recognise her? The expression on his face would say yes. Hosea was right, he had changed a lot. When she left, he was just becoming a young adult, but she would recognise her Arthur anywhere. The man standing in front of her had crow's feet wrinkles around his eyes accompanied by a dark beard that showed his age. Under his hat, she could see he had grown his hair, the ends were almost touching his shoulders. Speaking of his shoulders, they were broader and muscular covered in a blue striped shirt that she had seen many times. She believed Arthur liked to wear it as it resembled a shirt Hosea liked to wear a lot. He wore the shirt with his usual dark suspenders, a bandana around his neck, some worn black jeans and leather boots. She gave a small smile when she saw he was wearing his old leather hat which she had added a tan brown cord to.

The two adults seemed to be in a world of their own, totally ignoring the chattering of Penelope and Beau. Arthur couldn't believe his eyes; she was here. Hosea had come into camp last night and told the group that he had seen Lydia at the Braithwaite manor. Only Dutch, John, Arthur and Miss Grimshaw knew who he was talking about as the gang was only a few people when Lydia was part of it. They all reacted in different ways, but all were happy to know she was alive and quite safe. As soon as Arthur heard the news, he wanted to storm to the Braithwaite's and bring her back to camp so she could be with him. He didn't sleep a wink, too excited to see the girl that got away.

And now, here she was.

"Ly-Lydia?" His gruff deep voice sent a shiver down her spine. He did recognise her! The sound of his voice did something to her. She just wanted to run into his arms, apologise for leaving him and never go again, but she felt embarrassed for having these feelings. He didn't feel the same way.

"Hi Arthur" her voice was sweet and soft. She suddenly went all shy when his eyes looked her up and down to see how the years have treated her.

"Do something, please" Beau's pleading voice cut off the conversation. The young man looked to Arthur to remind him what they came here to do.

"Do what? Fight this mob?" Arthur gestured to the crowd of women in front of him. "They'd eat me alive." The sound of Lydia's almost silent chuckle found his ears, making him glance back to the woman. He wished that all the people around him would go away so that he could be alone with her. His mind was racing with things to say and questions to ask but he didn't want to scare her.

"This is no laugh matter, sir. They need protecting from certain elements. Mostly my family." Beau turned back to Penelope, one last chance to make her see the risks. "Penelope, I beg you."

"I'll tell you what…" Penelope had had enough. She understood that Beau was trying to protect her, but this meant something to her, and she wasn't going to drop everything for him. "Your friend here can drive the wagon for us. It'll allow us to shout all the louder." Penelope's voice raised in frustration, trying to compromise with her loving boyfriend. The young Braithwaite went to inform Ms. Calhoon of the good news, leaving Arthur and Lydia alone. He took a step closer to Lydia, about to follow Penelope but thought better about it.

"Do you find yourself unwillingly involved in situations a lot, Arthur?" The blonde teased him, as he rolled his eyes at being involuntarily volunteered yet again.

"You don't know the half of it" Arthur grumbled back. It was as if no time had passed at all as they resumed their old banter. The two were acting like teenagers, both nervous and shy but wanting to make a move. "So how you be- "

"My friend here says he can drive the wagon." Penelope interrupted the duo. Lydia internally cursed at her excited young friend at her awful timing. Penelope was followed by Olive, an older woman dressed in a navy plaid dress with a mustard sash across her torso that said 'VOTES FOR WOMEN'

"Olive Calhoon." She introduced herself to Arthur, holding her hand out to shake his. "Normally, I like to drive myself but today, I feel like a man joining us sends the right message." The older woman proudly stated. "And you are?" Lydia was caught off guard at the question, just hoping to fade into the background and keep an eye on Penelope.

"Lydia Braithwaite, ma'am." Out the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur's face wince at the sound of her full name. "I'm here to accompany my dear cousin and friend." Her blues orbs caught Arthur's green again. She had never noticed how green they were before; his eyes were normally hidden under the shadow of the brim of his hat.

"Well then, why don't you join your friend at the front? I'll join the women in the back."

"I've never been in a protest march before, ma'am" Lydia's eyes were frantic trying to find a way to get out of the protest.

"Well, just treat us like the sheep…" Olive headed to the back of the wagon with Penelope. "And the folks attacking us like the wolves…" The two of them grabbed a sign each before hopping on the wooden wagon with the crowd. "And I'm sure you'll feel right at home. Shall we go?" Olive reached over the side of the wagon to tap the faintly cushioned seat. Arthur jumped up on left hand side where the reins were lying, making himself comfortable and looking to Lydia. She stood still for a beat, then rounded the front of the cart to the other side. It appears she had worn the wrong outfit today, not envisioning herself hopping onto a wagon. Arthur leaned across the seat to offer his bare hand to the lovely lady. Hitching up her dress, she accepted his hand and vaulted up onto the seat. Her thoughts were focused on the warmth Arthur's hand left. Annoyed at herself for wearing her pretty lace gloves and not feeling his rough skin against hers.

"Alright ladies. We know our song is a good one and we know our cause is a pure one. Let liberty reign." Olive boomed just behind Lydia, who was trying to smooth out her bellowed skirt. Olive received a cheer from the women, who began to sing their song. Arthur whipped the reins causing the horse to slowly trot and the protest to begin. "Take us down Main Street, right through town to the steps of the Bank of Rhodes. Not too quick and not too slow. We need them to hear our voice." Ms Calhoon retreated to sing with the rest of the women on the cart. Lydia smiled at Beau who raced past on his horse, riding ahead to check that everything was safe for the women.

There was a thick silence between the two at the front of the wagon, this was not how she imagined seeing him again. Arthur coughed to clear his throat, buying him some time to pick which question to ask.

"So, Braithwaite, huh? It looks like you're living the good life."

"It's far from good." Casting her eyes down to look at the intricate detail of the lace gloves, she noticed the silence from Arthur, probably wanting her to elaborate. "I'm married to a man I don't love in an empty mansion with a woman that hates me. I want to leave and never look back, but I have nowhere to go." Lydia's voice became quiet as the women begin to sing over her. "I should have never left you." Before she could stop herself, the words had already left her mouth. This reunion was meant to be one of happiness not filled with guilt and regret.

"Then why did you?" Arthur's voice was almost angry, the memory of that day coming into his mind. He stole a glance at her, she resembled a young girl getting told off by a parent. Her eyes did not meet his as he asked the question that had plagued his mind for years.

"My father had just died, Arthur. I felt so lost and lonely without him. He never wanted Lydia to have that life, but he needed to provide for his family. When I looked round camp, it seemed every had someone. Hosea had Bessie, Dutch had Annabelle and you had Mary. So, when I finally found a good man that wanted to take me away from this life, I left."

Her eyes had not left the white lace of her gloves. Arthur nodded understanding the feeling of wanting to get away from the outlaw life. He had almost left it with Mary, but it pulled him back in. A part of him didn't think he would be cut out for the 'normal' life as a husband or a father.

"Stay on Main Street. It's a left up here, Mr Morgan." Olive Calhoon interrupted over their shoulders, her timing was impeccable. Arthur followed her instructions, staying on the red sand main road that led through the town. Men and women were exiting buildings to come see the ruckus happening outside. Some men began shouting obscene things at the women protesting, this got Lydia's back up.

"Well, this is not how I imagined our first meeting." Lydia admitted quietly, eyeing the angry men lining the street. She had imagined something out of a romance novel. Arthur recognising her, Lydia running into his arms confessing their love for each other and living happily ever after. Instead she got a political protest with men yelling at her to get out of town.

"You thought about me, Mrs Braithwaite?" Arthur asked hopefully with extra emphasis on her surname. A small blush appeared on her cheeks at Arthur's question. Of course, she thought about him.

"Every day Mr Morgan." She teased him back, smiling shyly at him. A red hue appeared on his cheeks too. Lydia was surprised that Arthur could even feel bashful let alone blush.

"Head home! Head Home" A stranger's voice broke through the singing women, ruining the moment Arthur and Lydia were sharing. Lydia's leg started to shake underneath her skirt, feeling anxious that she and Penelope were in danger.

"Oh, do give it a rest. You sorry fool!" Olive's brash voice bellowed right by Lydia's ear.

She felt a weight on her hand as Arthur grabbed it to try to calm her nerves. Their fingers entwined, both noticing how perfect they laced together.

"Don't worry. If anything happens, I've got you." There was her knight again.

"A little further please. Stop just past the bank." Why was everyone's timing horrible today? Arthur returned his hand back to the reigns to slow down the horse. "This spot if fine, sir…"

"Ladies, get down." Olive shouted as the women of the rally began to get off the wagon onto the red sand road. Arthur jumped down, turning around to Lydia when his feet hit the floor. Lydia slid towards the man to jump off the wagon, wanting Arthur there just in case she missed a step and fell.

Unfortunately, that's exactly what happened. The skirt of her dress was so big that she couldn't see where to put her feet as she climbed down. She moved her feet underneath to feel for any holdings, but the action caused her to fall backwards instead. Before she could hit the ground, she found herself safe in a pair of strong arms. Waiting a beat to get her breath back, she realised she was flush against Arthur Morgan's hard chest. She had never been in this position with him before no matter how many times she thought about it.

"Are you okay?" Arthur asked as he spun her round so, he could look at her. A few strands of her curly blonde hair escaped her old blue ribbon. Arthur enjoyed seeing her hair slightly messy, looking like the old Lydia he knew.

When their eyes met it was as the world around them disappeared. She started to nod to answer his question but got lost in his eyes. Her blues orbs were focused on his green ones, only just noticing the brown flecks in his iris. The grip of his hands on her small waist tightened slightly as he tried to restrain himself from making a move on the married woman. His eyes darting from hers to her pouty bare lips, aching for a taste. The white lace of her gloves contrasted the faded blue of his shirt. Her hands splayed against his chest, feeling both their pulses raise as she got hot under his intense gaze.

This was how she imagined their first meeting going, just the two of them. However, the people around them had horrible timing.

A group of men approached the back of the wagon shouting at the women to shut up or go home. Both of their heads turned to see the group staggering towards them. Arthur looked down at Lydia's hands to see him clutch his shirt in fear.

This what not the Lydia he knew. The Lydia he knew was brave, fearless and rebellious. The two of them used to play cons and scams across the town they would be camping near at the time. Normally the duo ended up running away, as someone caught on, only to stop and fall in fits of laughter. The old Lydia would stand up to these men, pulling out her gun to make them cower in fear. But something had obviously happened to the girl in his arms to make her cower. Arthur's thoughts when to that husband of hers, hoping he had never laid a hand on her.

The women continued to sing, almost shouting at the group of men joined to hear what Olive Calhoon had to say. The older woman climbed the small number of steps to stand on concrete foundation of the Rhodes Bank.

Lydia's eye went straight to Penelope, who stood in the middle of the crowd. She detangled herself from Arthur, immediately regretting it, walking over to the protest to protect Penelope if needed. The sound of Arthur's metal spurs clinking let her know he was following her. Lydia stood next to Penelope, who was focused on Olive's words and not on the potential danger.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a great day for all of us." Olive bellowed above the sound of the booing men and the angelic voices of the women. Both parties hushed to listen to what the rally leader had to say. "For today is the day we begin to live as equals." A man in the front row roared with laughter at the preposterous statement. "Yes, equals sir. Fair and equal."

"This is unnatural. This is nonsense." The same man shouted, turning around to face the crowd, hoping to get some support.

"Fair, equal and free just as the Founding Fathers intended."

Lydia ignored Olive's words as two burly men came from her right to walk in front of herself and Arthur. She recognised them as two of the Gray cousins. Her head bowed slightly, trying to prevent being recognised from the enemy family. Arthur saw the action out the corner of his eye, also eyeing the two apes.

"You alright?" He leant into the blonde, his voice hushed as not to grab the attention of the two in front of them.

"They're Grays, Arthur. Penelope and I can't be seen." Arthur nodded understanding the history between the Grays and Braithwaite.

"It's okay. Like I said, I got you." He spotted Lydia shiver slightly at his words. A smug smile graced his lips at the effect he still had on her. The smile vanished when she looked up at him with a grateful smile of her own.

As her hands were down by her sides, she felt hers brush against Arthur's as he stepped closer to her. The butterflies were back at the feathered touch. She felt like she was being teased by the handsome man next to her.

Exhaling a breath, she didn't know she was holding onto, she spied the two men heading towards the younger Gray. The Gray's danced between the men and women in the crowd to reach their destination; Beau. Her line of sight was obstructed a little by Penelope leaning forward to keep an eye on Beau and his relatives. A woman in a mustard dress was getting irritated in front of them at the deep manly voices that were talking over Olive.

"Go help Beau, his cousin is a moron and stop them from ruining the speech." Penelope begged Arthur, who was also watching the situation unfold. He nodded, giving the young blonde a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making his way to Beau. Lydia has seen the tough outlaw side of Arthur before, but not this Arthur. She secretly loved this side of him; a courageous man just trying to do what he thought was right, but she knew it weighed on him too. His heart was one of good. The man was just trying to do right by his two father figures, and he deserved to be loved. It hurt her when he would disagree with her words, saying he was a bad man through and through. Arthur Morgan always focused on the negative, believing he warranted everything bad thing that happened to him

"Beau" his rough voice stood out from the rest. "Weren't we just leaving?" Lydia straightened hearing him say this. Their time together couldn't be over already. She saw Arthur gesture to the side of the building, Beau and the other two Grays following.

Lydia grabbed Penelope's hand, weaving the two through the pack till she reached the other side. Penelope pulled on her hand to get free, but once they saw she was following Beau and Arthur, she complied. The two Gray cousins went off down the road, after seeing Beau reach his horse.

"Arthur!" Lydia yelled to get his attention. The cowboy sat on his horse looked to his left to see the blonde running toward him whilst hitching up and trying not to trip over the front of her ball gown skirt. "Where are you going?" Lydia asked in a panic.

"I've got to get Beau out of here and away from his foolish cousins." Arthur explained, not wanting to leave his girl either.

"When will I see you again?" She queried. A smile appeared on Arthur's face, a rare sight as he got older.

"Soon. I promise." With that vow, the two galloped off leaving the blondes standing in Rhodes. Lydia turned to Penelope, hearing Olive's voice stop talking, signalling the end of the protest.

"Lydia, how do you know Mr Morgan?" Penelope asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. She had watched the two, understanding the two adults had history, she just didn't know what. The two ladies began walking back to the Braithwaite manor.

"Well, it's a long story." Lydia chuckled slightly.

"We've got time until we get back home." Penelope egged the older woman on. So, whilst they walked back home, Lydia told Penelope the story of her and Arthur Morgan.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hey guys, I'm so sorry this took so long but work has been hectic and I've been struggling to put emotion into words with this chapter. I hope you enjoy this one. I know my writing isn't great but hopefully you get the picture :) In case people get confused remember Lydia has not been with the gang for 10 years so she has missed one on some deaths, the Blackwater massacre and new arrivals. **

**Please review to let me know what you think **

**Chapter 3**

Soon, he promised.

It had almost been two weeks since she last saw Arthur.

Every day her mind filled with thoughts about how good he looked, how much she missed him and how much time they needed to make up for. Seeing him again brought back all her old feelings which she thought she had locked away deep down.

He knew where to find her, so why hadn't he come to her yet? She couldn't exactly go to him without knowing where their camp was. It was like searching for a needle in a haystack. All she knew was that they were near Rhodes. She could spend hours searching in the wrong directions, wasting hours that would make her husband more suspicious.

Ever since Gerald had found out about her connection to Mr Matthews, he had been watching her like a hawk. She could spend a day outside in the garden, only to be bombarded with questions once her heeled boot crossed the threshold. Lydia suspected that Catherine wasn't helping the situation either. Gerald always enjoyed running off to his mother when things weren't going his way and Catherine enjoyed making a mountain out of a molehill when it came to Lydia.

She was currently sat in the room she shared with her husband, looking out the window at the long dirt track that led to the manor. Just waiting to see Silver Dollar or Boadicea come galloping down the path to rescue her from her nightmare. The bottom half of her body was beginning to numb as the thin padding on her bench did little in the ways of comfort. It didn't help that she had hardly moved from her spot near the big window.

Every now and then she would hear the sound of galloping only to be let down by one of the guards. She realised that she was waiting for something that might never come but it was her only slice of hope at the moment.

_Come on Arthur,_ she thought.

* * *

Arthur was starting to get tired of being right all the time.

He knew the meeting between Dutch and Colm was a setup but nobody listened to him. The horse galloped along trying to get the poor man, who was barely hanging on, home. The shotgun wound in his shoulder was clouding his thoughts, all he could think about was the pain. That and Lydia.

The trot of the horse was a lullaby to Arthur, sending in him in and out of consciousness. When he was awake, his mind went to the blonde he promised to see again. She was the only reason he was trying his hardest to hang on and make it back to camp. Seeing her again made him think he could actually enjoy being a husband and a father. He still felt pain about what happened to Eliza and Isaac but with Lydia, he felt he could move on and protect her.

_Just make it back to camp_. He kept repeating the mantra in his head, trying to will his body to hold on.

The patch of blackened trees, where lightning hit them one storm, was coming up on his left letting him know he was nearing Clemens Point. A faint smile graced his lips, feeling relief of being with the gang once again and getting off the damned horse.

As the animal neared the camp, Arthur felt his strength diminish greatly, he couldn't hold on any longer. He didn't need to, he was home.

Leaning forward to try and help the ache in his stomach from the beating he received, knocked him off balance. The force of the fall to the dirt ground knocked the wind out of him. A calloused hand laid on his chest, trying to catch the breath he lost. He laid on his back looking up at the silhouette of the trees for some time before he heard his name being called.

"Arthur…" Mary-Beth appeared in his line of sight, out of breath from racing across camp to see the injured man. He couldn't make out her features due to the darkness but recognised her voice.

"Arthur?" Karen asked, joining the other woman to tend to Arthur.

"Arthur?" The deep voice of Dutch came next. The three of them crouching down to examine the poor fellow.

"I told you it was a set-up, Dutch" Arthur growled breathlessly. Talking hurt his already throbbing ribs, knowing he was going to have a few deep bruises over the next couple of days. Arthur just wanted to have his 'I told you so' moment to Dutch before he blacked out from the pain.

"My boy, my dear boy, what?"

"They got me… but I got away." Arthur felt himself slowly giving into the dreariness, his eyes were feeling heavy.

"Yeah, that you did." Dutch laid a comforting hand on his boy's head, letting him know he was safe now. When Dutch looked at Arthur all he saw was the young boy he brought to the gang. He watched with sad eyes as Arthur curled into the comforting gesture from Dutch, just needing someone to be there for him. Dutch's heart hurt seeing someone so close to him get hurt because of his choices. "Miss Grimshaw, I need help!" Dutch shouted behind him. The loud noise made Arthur cringe, just wanting to get into his bed with silence. "Reverend Swanson…"

"He was gonna set the law on us…" Arthur barked, trying to get Dutch's attention.

"Oh, of course he was." Karen, Dutch and Mary-Beth tried to help the man sit up but just received a pained scream in response. All three of them held him as they waited for Mr Pearson to hoist him up and take him to his tent. Everyone was treating him like fragile porcelain, not knowing the full extent of the injuries they couldn't see.

"Mr Morgan… Mr Morgan, you're safe now." Reverend Swanson barrelled over to the crowd surrounding Arthur. Him and Mr Pearson stood on each side of the outlaw to lift him up with as little pain as possible.

"Let's get him to bed" Miss Grimshaw interjected, already trying to tend to the wounds. The two men walked Arthur to his bed with a concerned Dutch and determined Miss Grimshaw following.

"You're safe now." Dutch tried to reassure his surrogate son as Pearson gently laid him on his bed.

"That's pretty, Dutch. That's real pretty." Arthur breathed, happy to be on his cot and off the hard ground. He closed his eyes, enjoying the comfort of the soft mattress against his aching body. Pearson and Swanson walked away leaving Dutch and Miss Grimshaw with Arthur. The two started to whisper about how to handle Arthur's wounds and eventually, Colm.

The injured man didn't part any attention to the whispers or anything around him. Arthur opened his eyes to see his pretty blonde sitting by his bedside. Just looking at the beauty made him feel better. Lydia was sat on the chair next to the bed, peering at him with concerned eyes. It was like old time, when he would come into camp from a job that had gone wrong. Lydia would glue herself to the chair by his side, using a flannel to dab his forehead or just hold his hand. His fingers moved to feel for her soft hand, needing to feel it against his coarse skin. But when he closed his eyes and opened them once again she was gone.

"Lydia…" Arthur painfully whispered, making the two outlaws standing over him look at each other in worry.

* * *

It was much later in the evening when Lydia heard the beating of horseshoes against hard sand. She had already changed for bed, just wanting this day to end already. Wearing one of her old cream cotton nightdresses and a maxi lace peach floral dressing gown, she walked over to the window to humour herself. When she glanced outside, she was shocked to see Hosea and Silver Dollar sprinting towards the manor.

The rushed slapping of the bottom of her slippers against the hardwood floor, made James stand at attention, opening the door for the young woman. As she exited the manor she noticed Hosea had been stopped by the guards at the entrance.

"Let him in!" She screamed at the guards, who stepped aside to let Hosea and Silver Dollar through to the house. Her screeching voice seemed to have gained the attention of Gerald and his cousins, who were entertaining in the parlour. Gerald watched his wife hitch up her nightgown to skip down the steps to Mr Matthews. She crashed into the horse, glancing up at Hosea up upon his silver Turkoman.

"Lydia … It- It's Arthur." Hosea sounded panicked which wasn't usual for the normally calm elderly man. Lydia's eyes widened in fear, all the worst case scenarios running through her mind. Anxiety built as her imagination ran away, knowing the only way to find comfort was to see Arthur. Lydia snuck a peek to see Gerald's reddening face at her old life intruding on his once again.

The Braithwaite was aware his wife didn't love him but she had no right to act like it in front of his men. He saw the saddest in her eyes, pleading him to let her go but he didn't care. Gerald needed to show his dominance in front of his men.

"Someone get me a horse!" Lydia shouted at the guards just standing around, watching the scene unfold. "NOW!" She roared at the men, making a few of them round run to obey her command. The other men stood static looking at the red face of Gerald Braithwaite.

With the encouragement of his guests, the ginger haired man stormed over to his wife, stomping with anger and purpose. He roughly grabbed her wrist where she was stood with Hosea, turning her around to look him in the eyes.

"You're not going anywhere, **dear**" He threatened her with a sickly sweet voice that she recognised. Gerald would use the voice when he wanted to tell her off when people were around and then wait until they had privacy to really let it rip. Using his grasp on her wrist, he pulled her flush against him trying to trap her in his arms. Lydia could smell the expensive whiskey on his breath, leaning back slightly to avoid the odour.

Hosea watched the interaction between the married couple in fear that he would cause Lydia to get hurt by her husband. The old man had never seen Lydia look so scared in his life. He could see the tears threatening to fall from her sparkling blue eyes and her bottom lip trembling slightly.

Gerald's grip on her wrist tightened, his blunt fingernails digging into her tender flesh, drawing some blood. This was the last straw for her. Gerald would no longer control her and stop her from seeing Arthur or Dutch or anyone.

"Yes." Lydia growled snatching her wrist back from her husband. "Yes, I am." She saw one of the stable boys walk her Palomino Dapple American Standandbred horse, Rosie, towards her. She saw Gerald slightly flinch at the powerful glare she was giving him, knowing he would go running to mommy when she left.

Lydia thanked the stable boy, hoisting herself up onto the brown leather saddle as he held Rosie still for her. Whilst getting comfortable on the saddle, she finally noticed she was just dressed in her nightwear. Luckily the night wasn't too cold, otherwise she would have to waste more time by getting changed. Her eyes moved to Hosea, silently letting him know she was ready to leave. The crack of Hosea's reins made her glare at her husband one more time, before following suit and leaving for camp.

* * *

The older man wouldn't tell her anything about Arthur's condition, which frustrated her to no end. This only made the young woman tap her heels against Rosie's side causing the horse to gallop faster. She recognised the area as having rode past it numerous time, as they were still within Scarlet Meadows. Silver Dollar slowed to a gentle trot as the pair made their way through some trees, where she could see the dull light of the campfire. The trees disappeared to show the dishevelled camp on the edge of Flat Iron Lake. In daylight she would be able to pick out Arthur's tent straightaway, aware of his hatred of change.

It seemed the sound of horses approaching caused the members of the Van der Linde gang to jump into action, especially after the events of this evening. As she followed Hosea she took note of the number of people in the camp compared to 10 that were there when she left. Lydia noticed that there were a lot more women than when she joined, unaware if they were wives or friends of the men.

The crowd of people, eyeing the new arrival, started to separate as the dashing leader made his way through. She could just make out his usual red velvet waistcoat against the moonlight and lanterns surrounding the camp. Dutch Van der Linde had not changed a bit. He was still a poor outlaw with exquisite taste.

Hosea and Lydia hitched Rosie and Silver Dollar to the hitching posts just inside the entrance to the site. The older gentleman hopped off his horse to help the blonde off hers, still watching the group of strangers in front of her.

**"**Lydia!" Dutch's voice boomed, breaking the silence. "It's good to see you, my girl." A smile stretched across his face at seeing the younger girl he hadn't seen in 10 years. She hadn't changed much; her hair was longer and she was slightly taller but she also looked tired. Arthur had confided in him about what Lydia said about life at the Braithwaite mansion with Catherine and Gerald.

The curly haired blonde ran into the awaiting arms of her other father figure. She squeezed tightly missing the man, his lessons in life and his humorous stories. Lydia recalled the various nights her, Arthur and John would sit around the campfire listening to one of Dutch's animated tales about life in the wild west.

"I'm sorry about the circumstances." Dutch mumbled into the mass of curly hair as he hugged the young girl back. The statement caused Lydia to pull back looking into the sad eyes of Dutch, almost forgetting the reason Hosea had brought her here.

"It's good to see you too." A small smile graced her lips at the bittersweet reunion, but her eyes were frantically moving around the tents in the darkness. "Where is Arthur, Dutch?" Her voice hitched slightly as she spoke Arthur's name, hoping her imagination was far worse than the real thing.

"This way, my dear." Hosea came from behind the duo, leading Lydia into the darkness and away from prying eyes. Dutch hung back to disperse the crowd, making them look away from the hurting beauty.

The dew from the grass was coming through the thin material of her slippers, making her feet cold but she didn't care. The slight train of her nightgown stroked the top of the ground, but she didn't care. Her stare was fixated on Arthur's home, that hadn't changed. The small old cot under a black tarp attached to a newly fixed wagon that held the ammunition for the camp.

A fading lantern was the only light in the tent, causing Lydia's eyes to go the silhouette of Miss Grrimshaw, sitting next to Arthur's cot. The older woman was slightly bent over Arthur, dabbing a cloth on the gunshot wound on his shoulder. Seeing the small wound made Lydia let out a small gasp, grabbing the attention of Miss Grimshaw. Her stern gaze fell upon the two leaders of the camp, Hosea in front of a blonde woman and Dutch appearing behind her. She was trying to silently tell the two of them that Arthur Morgan was in no condition for guests, he needed his rest. Then Hosea stepped aside.

The unofficial matriarch of the gang eyes softened as her gaze fell on the young adult in front of her. Susan Grimshaw had always wondered what happened to Lydia Davis, hoping she was living the life she deserved. But it didn't sound like that was the case.

Susan knew this wasn't the time for a catch up, moving silently out the way to let the girl take her place. As Lydia walked slowly towards Arthur, she felt Miss Grimshaw's hand on her upper arm as a gesture of support. The two women nodded at each other as they passed.

Lydia was only a few feet from Arthur, finally able to take in his trauma. Exhaling a breath, she didn't know she was holding in, pleased that he wasn't in the worse state she had pictured. Arthur had a shotgun wound to his shoulder, staining his red long johns a shade darker. The skin on his face was slowly turning yellow and purple in some places, obviously having taken a beating from the assailant.

The young Braithwaite totally ignored the chair next to Arthur's cot, deciding to sit on the tarp floor instead. This allowed her to be eye level with Arthur and let her be comfortable whilst stroking the top of his head. Her elbow perched on the edge of the mattress, giving her hand the height and comfort to brush a hand through his much longer hair. A throaty low groan emitted from him, his head snuggling in her delicate hand. Lydia tilted her head to the right to watch his childlike reaction with a twinkle in her eye.

"Shhhhh" Lydia hushed him gently, trying to send him back to sleep so he could heal. She continued to play with his hair, remembering that it comforted him when he was younger.

For the rest of the night, that's where she stayed, right by his side. Totally oblivious to the two leaders of the camp, observing the young couple, happy they had found each other again.**  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Should Arthur get TB in this story? Struggling with whether to follow the game or do a new plot. Please let me know your thoughts and please review! It means a lot. I wrote this while listening to an instrumental version of Say Something by Brooklyn Duo and it fitted really well.**

**Chapter 4**

_A 26 year-old Arthur stumbled into the small camp just outside of Armadillo. He was on a romantic high after spending the day with the beautiful Mary Gillis. The two of them had a picnic by the river, spending the day eating good food and getting to know each other. The woman did something to him that no other had ever done. Well, maybe except…_

_He shook his head to get rid of the thought. She didn't see him like that. She saw him as an older brother that would protect her from anything and anyone. Just like that incident in the saloon a few weeks ago when a drunk guy handled Lydia a bit too roughly. He saved her from getting hurt, then stayed with her the entire night to make sure she didn't have any nightmares. He was there to make sure she was safe and secure, just like he promised her father before he passed._

_Arthur could remember the night Warren had called him into his tent. The man looked so different from his vibrant happy self. His skin was blotchy with red splotches dotted across his sickly grey skin. His brown eyes had become lifeless, heavy with fatigue begging to be closed. Warren's persistent cough echoed around camp and could probably be heard a few miles in the surrounding area. The older man used an old handkerchief which his late wife Margaret embroidered for him, not wanting to make anyone else hurt the way he was. Everyone in their camp tried their hardest to make the sick man comfortable, to try to take away his suffering and have a content passing._

_Mr Davis asked Arthur to make an honest woman out his daughter, to make her happy, to live the life that she deserved and to take care of her. Arthur promised him, he would try his best but the beautiful soul of Lydia Davis could never love an outlaw like him._

_It had only been a couple of months since Warren had passed. Arthur comforted Lydia as best he could but he didn't want to overstay his welcome and anger her. She was a hurting young woman but wasn't fragile like a porcelain doll. The thing he really wanted to do was to hold her through the night, to try and take away some of the pain she was feeling. He knew what it was like to lose both parents, feeling a little lost in the world and having no one to turn to. He wanted to aid her through that, let her know she could lean on their little family if she needed to._

_Over the last few weeks she had been getting better but something seemed different about her. Arthur couldn't put his finger on it but he had definitely seen a change in her. He wanted to believe it was just the healing process but a small part of him wasn't certain._

_Thinking about the blonde, he walked across the camp to the tent she used to share with her father. After her father passed, they had to get rid of most of their belongings so the disease wasn't transferred to anyone. The tent was mostly bare with just a green cot, a chest for clothes and a table for a vase of flowers to add a womanly touch. She used the wagon attached to the tent to hold more items like photographs, her father's weapons and some of her mother's things._

_Before he got to the tent, he watched as Hosea and Dutch hugged the much shorter girl. All three of them looked at each other sadly, Lydia even wiped a few strays tears away. Arthur had definitely missed something whilst out romancing Mary in town. The two leaders of the group left Lydia's little home, leaving the blonde to continue rushing around her tent. His eyes followed Hosea and Dutch walking over to console Annabelle and Bessie, who were not holding it together as well as the men were._

_Arthur walked with purpose towards the wagon, needing to find out what was going on. "Lydia?" His voice was soft, not wanting to startle his friend while she was frantically pacing around. She stopped pacing to turn to the young man who had addressed her. Her blonde thick curls following a second later, bouncing onto her right shoulder._

_Arthur could tell Lydia had been crying due to her puffy eyes and red cheeks. She placed her hands over her mouth, feeling another set of tears come. Lydia was thankful that Arthur had made it back, but she also couldn't bare telling him the bad news._

_"Arthur" She whispered, running into his arms. Arthur was taken aback by the gesture, rocking slightly backwards as she slammed into him. Standing on her tiptoes to embrace the stocky man, fisting the back of his leather jacket tightly with need. Her face snuggled against the side of his neck taking in his scent; a combination of leather, spice and just him. She felt Arthur hesitantly wrap his arms around her small waist, still confused about the sudden burst of emotion. His calloused hands laid flat against her back, she could feel his warmth through the thin material of her shirt. Arthur peered over Lydia's shoulder to the rest of the camp staring at the two as if they were putting on a show. Whilst distracted, he missed her mumble something into the thick material of his jacket._

_"What?" He asked her, moving his hands down to grip either side of her waist. Using to the grip to push her away from him slightly, he noticed that she didn't look up at him. Her eyes and hands were focused on a loose thread of his white shirt. He didn't even think about the fact that his shirt was the only thing blocking their skin to skin contact. She resembled a child that knew they were in trouble but didn't want to deal with the consequences. His ears barely registered that she had mumbled again. He rolled his eyes to the sky, just wanting to know what was going on. "Lydia" he huffed, his eyes returning to look down at her. "Don't make me ask again."_

_Lydia took a deep breath before answering. Just thinking about telling him that she was leaving made a tear drop onto the ground below. "I'm leaving, Arthur."_

_He heard her that time._

_Just from those three words, he could feel the walls around his heart crack and his core break in two. He stared at her bouncing curls in disbelief, needing to look into her eyes for the truth. Placing a finger under her chin to make her look up at him, he saw the beautiful face of a broken woman. The face, that he didn't know would stay with him for 10 years. Blue met green, tears already pouring from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks and falling from her chin._

_She really was leaving._

_"Why?" He asked, barely speaking the one-word answer. Any more words and she would be able to hear the effect she had on him. Behind his eyes, he could feel his own tears start to build up. He had promised her father that he would stay, protect and watch over her, but how was he meant to do that if she was gone._

_"I've met a man, Arthur." The cracks of his broken heart deepened. "He says he can take me give everything I've wanted. Daddy never wanted me to have this life. He wanted me to get married to a good man and grow old with my children." Lydia wanted to say that she always hoped that man would be Arthur but she couldn't do that to him. The blonde knew all about Arthur's current romance with Mary Gillis and how taken he was with her. "I just want to honour him."_

_The two continued to cling onto each other, neither wanting to let go or say goodbye, but she needed to. She wanted to make her father proud by getting out of the criminal life, but that meant leaving her family. There were so many words and things she wanted to say to the man in front of her but her mouth wouldn't obey. All the emotions were stuck in her throat making her unable to talk._

_"I understand." He breathed, still staring into her blue eyes. "No one ever wants this life but if you can find a way out. Take it." She gazed at him, her mouth slightly agape in shock. He wasn't meant to agree with her! He was meant to tell her to stay. Say that he was the only man for her, that he could give her what she wanted because she would be with him._

_Hosea walked over, disrupting their silent moment. "It's time to go, you don't want to miss your train." He said solemnly to the girl he saw as the daughter he never had. As he left the tent, he picked up the rest of her things to load them onto the wagon._

_"I guess this is goodbye." Lydia let go of Arthur to pick up her small suitcase. Arthur offered her his hand, doing the gentlemanly thing and taking her luggage. The two slowly ambled to the wagon, which was only a few feet away, wanting to take their time. With every step, it was as if they could feel time fly past. Memories of each other flooded their minds, showing just how important they were to the other._

_Stay._

_"Just for now, Miss Davis" Lydia smiled at him, finding it funny whenever he addressed her properly. They had known each other for years and he still called her by her last name sometimes._

_"You promise, Mr Morgan?" She said hopefully, optimistic that the two would see each other again. He placed the suitcase into the back of the wagon, turning to look at her. Arthur leant against the wooden panel of the cart, nodding and smiling at the blonde. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes, she could tell he was just telling her what she wanted to hear and it was working. Although he wasn't saying what she really wanted to hear._

_Stay._

_"We'll see each other again." The two walked to the front of the wagon where Hosea was quietly sitting, allowing the couple to have their time. This was the moment they were both dreading, it was her time to go. Arthur held his hand out for her, which she gladly accepted helping her onto the first step on the cart. But then she paused._

_Lydia turned around to face him, placing a small hand on his broad shoulder to steady herself. Arthur instinctively placed a hand on her waist, not expecting her to whip around to look at him. She had no idea where the confidence had come from but she would regret it if she didn't say something now. There was a fierce look in her eye as she stared into his, trying to convey the seriousness. "Tell me to stay."_

_"What? Lydia I-"_

_"If you tell me to stay, I will." She stopped him, she had to get it out in one breath otherwise it would never be said. "Just say it, Arthur." She was begging him. He couldn't believe the honesty coming out of this woman's mouth. It was as if she was reading his mind. But hearing the words out loud was different. He couldn't do that do her. What if she regretted staying? What if they didn't work?_

_Go._

_"I can't Lydia." A small gasp escaped her lips. "Take the opportunity to get out of here. To get away from us." He used his grip of her waist to turn her back around and help her onto the passenger seat of the cart. "Give yourself the life Warren always wanted for you and don't turn back." It seemed as if his brain wasn't cooperating with his mouth, no idea where these harsh words were coming from._

_"Arthur-"_

_"Go or you'll miss your train." Arthur nodded at Hosea, who stared at him stared in surprise. Asking him with his eyes if this was how he wanted to leave things with her. He received his answer when Arthur spun on his heel to head back to camp with the small crowd that was gathering to wave her off._

_"He's hurting just as much as you." The older man sighed. "He's just doing what he thinks is best." Lydia glanced at Hosea then dropped her head to look at her hands. Distracting herself by playing with the thin material of her skirt, trying to hide the tears that threatened to fall. Hosea whipped the reins, making the horses spring into action and Lydia jump at the harsh sound._

_Before the wagon moved out of sight and into the trees, she turned in her seat to look at the small family she was leaving. Dutch, Annabelle, Bessie and Miss Grimshaw all waving sadly, comforting each other until she was out of sight. However, her eyes were stuck on the young man behind the wall of adults. Snatching his old leather hat off his head and throwing it onto the ground in frustration at the situation and himself. The impact of the hat made a small dust cloud rise. Why didn't he just tell her to stay? Turning his back away from her, he dragged his hands through his dark hair at his own stupidity. That image marked her brain, the only thing that appeared when she thought of Arthur Morgan._

* * *

The coughing fit Arthur was currently having on his cot, woke up the blonde beside him. She couldn't bare leaving him to go back home to Gerald. Her mind would taunt her with scenes of Arthur whilst she laid next to her husband. Teasing her with his current state, making him worse because she wasn't there with him.

Lydia was still sat on the floor with her arms crossed on the bed acting as a pillow for her head. Her muscles were stiff after being there for a couple of hours, wanting to stay close to let him know she was still there. Beads of sweat appeared along his hairline, she reached for the small towel beside her to dab his forehead.

At the feel of the rough cloth against his skin, he tried to open his eyes to see who was tending to him. He blinked furiously to help his vision focus in the new light of dawn. The time of day where dark and light mixed to form a harsh glow on the eyes. Arthur felt a small hand lay on his chest, moving up to brush his damp hair out of his face. A softness stroked his coarse cheek, attempting to calm him down, which it did.

The first thing he saw was sunlight bouncing off a mass of light blonde curls. Confusion masked his face, believing he was reliving another memory of them but he couldn't remember this one. The woman in front of him was the older version of Lydia, the one he had seen in Rhodes.

"Shhh, it's okay. I got you." The sound of her angelic voice pierced through his coughing.

"Lydia-" The sound that came from his was a hoarse whisper, the coughing having done some damage to his throat. Lydia rotated to place the dirty rag in the bucket of water Miss Grimshaw had provided. Placing her elbow just by his head so that he could lean on her if necessary, resuming the caress through his long hair.

"I'm here." She spoke softly. The hand that was stroking his right cheek, drifted down to lay on his chest. Her fingers absentmindedly playing with the chest hairs poking through the loose gaps between the buttons of his long johns.

"No I-" He struggled whilst she played with his hair, which she knew would make him drift back to sleep. He grabbed her wrist with urgency, pulling her arm down just in front his face. He laced in fingers with hers, hands sweating at the burning sensation of their skin touching. The unusual display of affection made her blue eyes meet his green. "I should of-" he attempted to clear his throat, needing to get out what was on his mind.

"Arthur? I'll get you some clean water." She tried to get up from the floor to fetch him some water from Pearson's wagon, but his weighty grip held her in place. He wasn't letting her go.

"I should- I- I should have told you to stay." His voice was just above a whisper. The worried frown on Lydia's face deepen, not understanding the context of the confession. "All those years ago, I should have told you to stay with me."

_He said it. He finally said it. _She thought to herself, fighting against the grin trying to break through. There was nothing to stop the twinkling in her sky blue eyes though.

"Yes, you should of." She smirked at him. "But it's okay, I'm here now."

A small gasp sounded when she felt his dry cracked lips brush against the top of her hand. The blush reddened under his intense gaze, understanding the confession had been on his mind for a while. Years, in fact.

The temptation to lean over and kiss him was increasing but she didn't want to ruin the innocent moment they were sharing. A beautiful staring contest, where no words were spoken by everything was being said.

"Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake." Her hand resumed the light caress through his greasy hair.

Closing his eyes, he thought about how this was the first time he wasn't scared to fall asleep. Feeling safe that someone was watching over him for a change.


End file.
